The Forgotten Time
by Whui
Summary: I wonder what might happened if Watson and Sherlock met before. In 1867, before Christmas, Waston and Sherlock had their adventure in a train. Thinking about what would Sherlock look like in his teenage and how he would act is quite fun. I am not a native English speaker, so some of the expression may not be so properly. Hope you will enjoy it!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter1

The winter in 1867 was extremely cold. It had not snowed since the start of December. Sitting on the train from Berkshire to London right before Christmas, I quietly looked at the sullen sky outside the window and the thin white frost on the glass. The cold wind formed into a strange pitch like the scream of little animals when it leaked into the carriage from the crack on the train window. When I heard my mother cough a little behind me, I drew the curtain to block the icy wind. The light in the kerosene lamp flashed while the whole coach seemed much warmer than before.

"Thank you. Johnny." My mother's face creased into a smile as she patted her chest slightly. I watched her apprehensively. She had not been so healthy in recently years.

My father poured a cup of water for her, wrinkled his brows and uttered, "Ailie, your cough seems worse."

"I think we should move back to Australia. The weather is warm there and good for mother. I prefer the fresh air and sunshine in Melbourne to the terrible damp frost in Britain," said my brother Henry, as he looked up from the book on his knees.

Smiling indulgently to Henry, my mother said, "Honey, I guess you just don't prefer Wellington College.".

"I am not the only one." Henry leaned against to the back of the chair. "John doesn't like there either."

The three turned to look at me suddenly, I quickly waved my hand, "I never said that."

My father stroked my mother on the back tenderly. He thought for a moment and said slowly, "Henry's words are not unreasonable…your health is most important, Ailie."

I saw Henry's eyes lit up, "Will we go back?" he asked eagerly.

My mother glanced at my father, "There's no need, George." She turned to us and said earnestly, "Don't listen to your father, you should finish your school here."

My father tapped her shoulder lightly as he grinned, "Ah, Ailie. You should not tell the boys to ignore my words to my face."

My mother chuckled at what she had just said, the dimple creeping back onto her cheek brightened her pretty face.__"You should know that, Mr. Watson," she smiled naughtily like a young girl as she replied, "If I can refute you to your face, I can also refute you behind your back…" She coughed a little when she finished.

"Ailie, you'd better have a rest. Ok, boys, do your mother a favor, she needs a rest." said my father to Henry and me.

Henry put his book on the seat and stood up, "I can take John around to the dining car." said he while he straightening his collar. My father agreed with a nod.

"Take care of your brother, Henry." The voice of my mother came across the carriage when we walked to the door.

"I am 15 years old, mum." I turned red and shouted back, "I can take care of myself!"

My father patted my head gently and smiled, "Be careful, my boy," he urged in a soft voice.

The bright light disappeared as the hatch closed behind us slowly, Henry and I stood in the dim corridor for a moment. The crash-crack noise of metal collision ran into my ears as the train crushed the rails.

"So finally…our Johnny can take care of himself. Is that right, my little bro?" Henry drawled in his world-weary way as he put his arm on my head.

The half joke and half tease annoyed me a little. I slapped his hand away. "Don't speak to me like mother." Then I walked to the dining car.

He followed me behind and murmured, "Who don't you let mother know your real feeling about the school then." I rolled my eyes back to him in a not very nice way.

"Save it. I never said I dislike our school. As for you, you are not willing to take me around sincerely…I've seen your friends in seniors grade when we got on the train."

"Really smart, little Johnny!"

"Don't speak to me like that!" I gave him a stern look and pushed the door of the dining car.

In full light, the red woods ornamented on the wall and the floor of the dining car were shining like gold. There was a mountain of copies of The Times on the little square table near the door. Two lines of dinner table by the window only left one narrow passage for people to go past.

Almost no seat was free, full of ladies and gentlemen who talked softly and enjoyed their tea and cookies. In the corner, I saw a group of boys sitting with their head together, I was curious about what they were studying. One of them looked up and found us, he moved to Henry happily. "Here, Henry! We've waiting for you for a long time."

I followed Henry. The boy looked at me and smiled, "Bring John again?" said him to my brother.

Henry shrugged his shoulder and turned to the boys sitting in a circle, "Vincent is running find-the-lady again?" I followed his eyes, there were three poker cards laid face down on the table, a friend of Henry's looked at the cards grimacingly.

I knew this kind of game, one shuffled the three cards with face down in a high speed, and made the others guess where is the queen. Although it was a definitely simple game, it really needed high qualities of observation and sharp response capacity.

Henry's friends smiled and whispered, "Vincent is good." He flicked his chin to motion the boy sitting face to face with Vincent, "But he met his match today."

I started to look at the opponent. His curved black hair was the first thing that caught my eyes, below were two dark eyebrows and a pair of sharp and piercing eyes with a twinkle which looked like eagles circling in the sky. The thin hawk-like nose mixed the innocence of a teenager with the inborn persistence. So thin as he was, his chin seemed more square than it actually was. Although he could be no more than fourteen, he was extremely tall in his age. When he leaned against the back of the chair, his body formed an angle with the desk which made him thinner.

While Vincent was still stared at the poker as if he could burn a hole on the cards, the tall boy sat there quietly, tapping the desk with his fingers. His mouth was compressed into a thin line of impatience.

"Have you done?" his voice was lower than I thought.

Vincent bit his lip and put his hand on the right card, "Lady's on the right."

The boy didn't say anything, but his eyes blinked smugly. "In the middle." he said at last.

"No way!" Vincent turned over the card in the middle, the crown on the figure seemed waved to him happily. "Owl…" he uttered a groan of upset and sat back, "I quit, you win." The other boys hooted with laughter. Vincent looked around and soon found my brother.

"Henry, here you are." He stood and smiled, "Thank god, I've lose three bouts."

"Losing to some even younger than my brother. Bravo, Vince." Henry grinned mischievously. Then he winked his eyes, "I remember you said you have the thing, what we are waiting for?"

Exchanging conspiratorial glance, all the other boys stood and about to leave the carriage. I finally realized and pulled Henry by his sleeve. "Are you going to drink?" I asked.

He stroked away my hand, raised his eyebrow. "Are you going to be the informer?"

"Of course not!" I raised my voice. The other seniors busted into laughter, my face turned red. Henry pulled me into the seat where Vincent sat before and patted my head.

"Enjoy yourself, little bro." he whispered to my ears, and then went out with his friends from the other side of the dining car. I was in a daze for a moment then I realized that only the curved boy and I were left. The three cards laid on the table pitifully and the boy sitting opposite me looked at me with a poker-face.

What the hell? I thought to myself.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter2

As the boy kept watching me, I felt it was hard to pretend not to mention him. I looked up, smiled at him in a way that I thought was polite enough for a stranger. "Hello, would you mind I sit here?"

The boy shook his head slightly and started to put the cards away.

"William or Waldon? " He asked suddenly.

"Hh?"

"You have a 'w' on your wristband. Is that the abbreviation of your name? People in Australia usually have those two names" said the boy in a flat tone as if he was talking about the weather.

I looked down at my wristband unconsciously and realized what I was doing suddenly, "How do you know I've been to Australia?" I asked curiously. The number of the sentences I said to him then was no more than two, how could he know I spent my childhood in Australia.

"Your skin was suntan. Although it is turning to the original color, it still indicates that you have been exposed to the sun for a long time. The color is not common in Britain, right? " He paused and he twisted the cup on the table. "I confirmed myself when you asked me how I know, the 'how' sounds like 'ow' when you speak very fast. That is a special sign of Australian accent. "

I was so surprised that I almost forget how to blink my eyes. I tried to find a proper word in my mind to reply him, finally I said, "You are acute."

"Acute? No, no, far away from acute." he frowned and shook his head, "Your hair is tidy, perhaps being cut recently. You don't allow the bangs to block your eyes cause you have a self-disciplined and prudent personality. " he sat straight up, cleared his throat and continued, "More details. You have a happy family. But you are a little worried about your…mother, I guess, maybe she's not very well."

My month fell open in horror as if I could put an egg in it. Sapristi! How could he know? How could he know mother is not very well? Did he follow my family? Did he investigate my family? All those questions almost flood every corner of my mind.

Maybe my expression of being frightened amused he, the boy puckered his face in a smile, "Wanna to know why I know? You don't want your brother to drink, but you won't tell your parents about that. The only reason is that you afraid to bother them. Why? Perhaps one of them is not very well. Father doesn't care about these things usually, so the one you cared must be your mother. "

I felt myself being stripped naked and threw into the snow. To be honest, the feeling was not that comfortable. I opened and closed my month like a duck without a word.

"Anything wrong?" he asked urgently as he leaned forward his body like a little child that eager to know how well he did in a test. The expression on his face finally showed the still possessing innocence that suit his age.

"Most are right except one thing" I blinked as I raised my wristband, "My name is John. 'w' means Willington College, my school."

"Owl…" he was vexed at his small mistake, "I should have noticed, you frowned to your brother when he went to drink. He broke the school rules. Of course you like your school."

I burst into the first truly laughter I ever had since I got on the train.

"Why are you observing people like that?" I asked curiously.

"For my career" claimed the boy with a severe countenance, "I am practicing now. One day, I will be better than Mycroft. By the way, Mycroft's my brother."

I nodded. Totally understand the desire of being better than the order brother. In fact, I had thought to myself for thousands of millions of times, I can do better than Henry, much much better.

"One day, I will be the one. I will be unique and extraordinary" he said with confidence as if he was the proud King of Rome, saying 'Veni Vidi Vici' when he defeated the enemy. I was still immersed in the imagery of a young general in flowing robes directing the army, gaining ground until the boy continued, "Even the Scotland needs me!"

"What? Scot-wait, then what do the police do? " I asked incredibly. What would the Scotland asked you for help? Guessing where the suspects come from? There are countless polices to solve cases, why they need your help? I swallowed back the rest words in the tip of my tongue.

"Simplify the establishment, leave the clearest one and god bless the government." He became more and more ecstatic. I felt that my eyebrows were almost going to raise up to the hair line.

"You don't believe me." He noticed my expression and smiled.

I decided to tell the truth, "It's hard."

He was not offended. Instead, the smile on his face turned into a jolly laugh. "It seems that I should take out my true skill." He gave me a hint with his eyes to look at the table behind me. I turned back. Sitting there was a matronly lady wearing a large jade necklace and a young man in black, as the old lady asked something strictly, the man repeated haltingly with trepidation. Although I didn't know what they were talking about, I was firmly sure the topic could never be a happy one.

"What can you tell about the respected lady and her adopted son?" The boy's voice had turned into a low squeal.

"Adopted son?" I was confused again, "Enlighten me."

"They acted in an estranged way." He responded quickly. "While the old lady giving the man a dressing-down likes a host instead of a mother, he just listens to her without any refutation. Maybe he is her relative and selected as an adopted son to inherit her property after her death. "

I was impressed. He then pointed to a man sitting by the window next to us and went on, "How about this man?"

I tried to observe the man in the boy's method. With an emaciated face seemed that being squeezed by the door, the man swathed in a worn coat even in the warm carriage and huddled up in the chair. He held a copy of The Times, but his attention was obviously not on the newspaper as he kept looking at the old lady and her son like a thief in the night every two minutes.

"Strange…" I weighed my words, "poor, lackadaisical, not a good one." I finally got my conclusion.

The boy nodded slowly and then shook his head, "He is poor now, but he used to be rich. Look at his hat clearly, it is made of furry wool, very experience material, but the stains on it shows that he hasn't wash it for a long time. He had lost his money. " The boy paused for a moment, tapping the table slightly, "Look at the dent on his middle finger, it is a sign of indulging in gambling as holding dice. But as the dent is turning light, he must have stopped gambling recently. May be he want to be a good one again."

That makes sense. I thought. But it still does not explain the strange behavior of looking at others furtively.

"His sneaking manner," the boy said as if he could read my mind, "the only reason is that the lady has something he want…I don't know what it is now." he chuckled like a small satisfied cat licking its paw before playing with the rat, "But it seems that the trip is not boring anymore."

I didn't know what he was talking about. The door of the carriage was slowly creaking open as the waiter came in with some cigar cases and tea pots on the cart. He passed us quickly and walked directly to the table of the lady and her son when they lady said they ought to leave with the load voice that everyone could hear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man in worn coat put down his newspaper immediately and left his table.

Suddenly, a series of crashing of porcelains like sudden thunder startled me. I jumped and turned back quickly to see what happened. The man in worn coat was lying on the ground with his hand tightly grabbed a portion of the table linen. All the cookies, teacups and vase were scattered. Some fragment of chinaware pricked into his hand which made him rolling on the ground with pain. The storm out of nowhere appealed to other passengers, they frowned as the man still groaning like a lamb. They turned to a nonchalant face as if they had never been drew attention by the noise. The waiter finally remembered to help the man up. I turned back and noticed the boy was still on his seat, staring the center of the farce with his hand clasped intertwined against his month.

I felt a little shame of being disturbed so easily. Then I heard the cry of the old lady as harsh as nails scraping the blackboard.

"My necklace! Where's my necklace?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The carriage fell in to a sudden silence as if each one lost the ability to speak. The neck of the old lady was blank-the dazzling jade had gone! When everyone was still in a daze, the man in worn coat realized what had happened before anyone else. He opened his eyes wildly, wearing a more unbelievable expression than the old lady like he was the one who lost the necklace. He fumbled through his thatch nervously and shouted in panic, "Noooo…the necklace….."

The waiter pushed the button on the wall to ask the train conductor to come. Passengers looked at each other in dismay while the man in coat cried for the missing necklace and forgot to take care of his wound cut by porcelain fragments.

"He is the thief!" The young man banged the table and pointed at the man in the worn coat as soon as the conductor came in, "He has followed us all the way even before we got on the train!"

Everyone in the carriage astonishingly looked at the poor man whose hand was still bleeding. The room was loud with the chatter of talk. I clearly heard a lady tell to her companion that she had long felt the man was a scoundrel.

Blood seeping through his worn sleeve, the poor man stood in the middle of the carriage with his face pale. As he heard the charge, he took some steps back and grabbed his coat tightly as if it was his last castle.

"I…I didn't…" He opened his eyes wildly in horror. So nervous as he was, his tongue tied.

The train conductor who was asked to come by the bell sighed, "Sir," Said he to the trembling man, "You'd better give the necklace back or I'm afraid we will keep you in another carriage and send you to the police once we arrive at London."

"No, please…I didn't steal anything. I cannot be sent to the prison." The poor man looked at the crowd for help with mournful eyes, but as long as people got eye contacts with him, they would turn away in a second as if they suddenly got extremely interested in the picture on the wall.

The young man didn't want to let the thing go easily, so he wrapped his hand around the man's arm and pushed him to the ground. "You despicable thief! " He puckered his face.

"I'm not a thief!" The man shouted in despair like a condemned criminal

"Then why did you follow them?" A voice came from the crowds. The accused man suddenly got stuck, his month opened and closed without a word like a dried fish.

The young man sneered while looking down to his nose at the accused man. He seemed change to another person who was quite different than the yes-man in front of his mother. "You deserve to live in the prison forever!"

I frowned. He shouldn't treat someone like that. The words were too mean even for thief.

"Take care of your manner. My kid." Just then, a deep, commanding voice sounded behind the crowed. The old lady had recovered from the initial shock. She stood and pushed her way through the crowd like Moses divided the sea.

The young man stared at the man sitting on the ground restlessly. "Yes, mother." He changed his attitude to a respectful expression to the lady quickly even faster than the clown on the stage.

Knowing that there was nothing interesting, the crowd started to disperse. The interlude for them was nothing important than dropping a small cube sugar into their coffee. There were only some ladies still exchanged their experiences of being stolen. The conductor forced the poor man to leave the carriage. It seemed that the man had something to say, but no one would be willing to listen to a thief. They had no tear to be shed on whatever the punishment for the poor man.

I felt sorry for the man, he was about to be a good man (if the guess of my new friend was right), but he just couldn't control his desire. My mind was still staying on the man until a familiar voice came into my ear.

"Where's the necklace?" the special husky of a teenage boy sounded in the carriage like the midnight bell. Everyone turned to the origin of the voice, the curly hair boy and me.

I felt flushed with embarrassment as drawing so many attentions suddenly. "Hey," I twitched the boy's sleeve and whispered, "We have already got the suspect, then we will get the necklace back."

'No.' The boy firmly shook his head, "We should find the necklace first, then we will know who's the thief."

I felt confused, what was the difference?

The boy walked to the man in worn coat, I tried to catch his clothes but failed. Watched by the large crowd, my friend asked the man, "You said you are innocent, then why you keeping watch the lady?"

The man hanged his head and shrank himself into his coat as if no one could see him anymore.

"You have already gived up gambling. There's no reason for you to steal things. What's your motivation of following the lady?" I found my friend's words were so eager that the man was going to collapse.

I sighed and walked ahead, patted the poor man's hand lightly, "Please tell us the reason. It's the only chance to vindicate you."

Tears filled his eyes, the poor man broke down, covered his face with his hands ,"I am a coward…I pawned my grandma's wedding necklace for gambling, the pawnbroker sold it when I bankrupted. Now my grandma is dying and she wanted to bring the necklace with her." He sobbed, "I tried to take courage to ask if I could buy the necklace back…but I just can't say the embarrassing words…" The man brushed wetness from his face with his hat, "But I didn't steal it."

The carriage went to silence. I felt guilty for thrust the poor man's pain. It was not my intention. However, thanks to the sad reason, the case got lost in the mist that could cover all the sky again. If the man was not the thief, then who stole the necklace?

Everyone who came closer to the old lady was labeled as suspect. Only they could take the necklace away when the man fell on the ground. I thought.

"The son, the waiter, including the bystanders…" the curly hair boy said in a flat voice, "anyway, taking off a necklace from someone quietly is not a big deal, as long as you have a quick hand."

I looked around, the crowds were at sea, they had never dreamed that one day they would be distrusted as thief. The adopt son's face turned red and the waiter avoided eye contact.

"The only question is where the thief hides the necklace in less than one second.." The boy continued, "Since no one leaves the carriage, so the necklace is still here." His sentence was bass drum ringing out across the room.

The young man bounced as if he was affronted. "Do you mean I embezzled? How dare you!"

"Sir," said the conductor who watched what happened aside, "The boy's logic is sound. I'm afraid you should show your pocket."

The young man's face fell, "Fine," he said grimly, shuffled back on his heels and narrowed his eyes, "But if it turned out that I am innocent, I will not let it go at that."

He started to empty his pocket and put his belongings on the table, his handkerchief, his pocket watch, his little notebook, but there was no necklace. "See?" His slippery tone sounded like a snake flicked its tongue.

I looked at my friend, he still wore that pock-face as if he didn't notice the deliberate provocation. People turned to look at the other major suspect. The waiter up his hands and said, "Take it easy. I don't even have a pocket."

He was right, waiter's uniform was designed without pockets to avoid them steal things from the passengers. The young man walked to my friend with his head up, he was the king of his own world, "Although you treat me impolitely, I decide to forgive you."

People felt dull then. It seemed that the case could be only left to the Scotland. The waiter started to clear up the tables and prepare to leave with his silver salver.

I observed the expression on my friend's face but failed to get any conclusion. Patting his shoulder, I tried to comfort him, "It's ok. You still guess correctly a lot on me."

"John," said he suddenly, "Where would you hide things…secret enough…" His face lit up with a confident smile. "That's right! Seeing isn't always believing." Then he whispered a word in my ear.

"What? Are you jo…"I almost shouted out, my face turned to red. He nodded his head seriously as a response.

Why I have to do that? That's unbelievable! I was another Hamlet being entangled in to be or not to be.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The other people had returned to their seats. With salver filled with things on his hand, the waiter walked to the door. When he passed our table, I finally made up my mind. Clinching my teeth, closing my eyes and putting my feet out, I did what the boy had told me: Trip the waiter up.

"Ow!" The creaming boomed accompanied with another a series of crash. I felt so ashamed of playing trick that I was afraid to open my eyes, then I heard a cry as loud as it could waking everyone on the train.

"Hey! Here's the necklace! "

I opened my eyes unbelievably. It was the necklace, twinkling on the floor, aside with some opened cigar cases and scatted cigarette. The waiter was the thief! He put the necklace in the cigar case. No wonder he escaped from the search, who would believe that the necklace was in a cigar case!

The conductor was yellow with rage, "A waiter thief! On my train!" He grabbed the arm of the waiter and roared like thunder, "You should go into prison!"

Seeing that he couldn't cover his offence anymore, the waiter played a scene of dog-eat-dog. "He," He pointed at the adopted son, "He asked me to do this! He gave me money and promised gave me more money when he sold the necklace!"

The young man's face was pale as death in a second. His mother snorted and gave him a sideways glance, "No wonder the supervisor of your collage wrote to me that you are becoming prodigal and unrestrained. It turned out to be true! You even did such mean trick! I am so disappointed at you. " Said the old lay sternly.

Her son was scared out of his wits, he fell on to the floor on his butt. The old lay picked up her necklace and gave it to the man in worn coat, "I am sorry to put you in the wrong. Please keep the necklace. It belongs to your grandma. At least she had a filial grandson."

The case was finished. I felt someone was tugging my sleeve. It was the boy, he fluttered his eyelashes at me. I left the carriage with him quietly.

"How do you know the waiter and the son stole the necklace?" I couldn't wait to ask him as soon as we stood in the corridor. 

"I've seen that." He smiled.

"What? You mean you saw everything?" I turned to him so quickly that I almost break my neck.

"No, I see that in my mind. If I were the thief, where would I hide the necklace."

"Then how do you know it was in the cigar cases?"

"Well…" His eyes were even brighter like stars in dark, "Because it isn't in anywhere else."

I was silence for a while, then I said, "You should go back to the carriage. The old lady must want to express her gratitude. You may be the hero in tomorrow's newspaper! "

The boy laughed outright, "I guess not," his shoulder heaved as his endless laughter, "Family troubles are not a thing to be talked in public. She still needs the man to inherit her property." Said he when he putting on his coat.

"The train's going to stop at Hounslow for a few minute," He wrapped his black scarf around his neck carefully, "Thanks for your accompany during this trip."

"You are leaving now?"

"Well…if I still on this train, Mycroft would catch me once I arrived at London. I guess my family had already received the telegram of my missing from my school."

I gasped with astonishment, "You travelled alone?"

Sounding a siren, the train wheezed into the station. A trace of smile played across the boy's face, "Good bye, John." He pushed the door and jumped leaped off the train dexterously and then moved back to me.

The biting cold wind pouring into the train, my face was cut by the frigid air. I couldn't even open my eyes. When the train started to move again, I finally realized and peaked my head over the window, "I don't even know your name!"

He moved his lips, his mouth was like "Sh…" something, but his voice was inundated in the thunder-like whistle. I kept looking at him until he became a small black dot and disappeared.

When I went back to my carriage, I felt that I had lost something, something I couldn't figure out.

I didn't know how they handle the case at last. When I arrived at home in London, I searched in the sea of newspapers but failed to find anything about the case, even as small as the size of a biscuit. The boy was right, the old lady did protect her inheritor even he disappointed her so deeply.

Christmas came to the town in time with a heavy snow. After the intimate dinner, my family rested in the living room of our cozy house. My mother and my father was reading newspapers near the fire-place while my brother Henry was piling up the fire incase my mother felt uncomfortable. I huddled up in the comfortable roomy armchair, feeling sleepy.

"Listen this one," my mother said to us, "A thirteen year old boy left his school and travelled half Britain by himself. Thirteen! He's even younger than John. How worried his family would be!"

Something flashed in my mind so fast that I couldn't catch it before it disappeared.

"Don't worry, mother." Henry gave a wry smile, "John and I won't do things like that…"

I nodded and turned to look outside the window, the city was hushed and white with snow. The bright, whirling, snowflakes gently kissed the ground as light as feather.

"Merry Christmas." I said to my family.

"Merry Christmas. John." They answered me with warm smile in their eyes.

And Merry Christmas to you, my friend. I thought about the boy whose name I might never know in my life. It was a pity for me. As time went by, I found that his face faded away in my memory, all I remembered was just the small black dot under the cloudy sky.

I wondered if I would ever see him again.


End file.
